In the Dark
by CheshireCatwithaBlackHat
Summary: "I'm your death, your grim reaper, the last." The Not-Italy said as he kneeled down, and then drove the knife deep into Frances back stopping his heart, his lungs, his breath, stopping his life for good. *an evil being takes control of Italy locking him in his mind, will the countries be able to stop Not-Italy from destroying the world without killing Italy himself? **Rated M**
1. The issue

_disclaimers:_ i dont own hetalia, if i did there would be more action and fight scenes and :3 yoai of course. enjoy my angsty ficcy poppets!

_Italy floated in the darkness or at least he couldn't see anything. He wasn't sure if his eyes were open or closed; it felt as if he were suspended. Italy was scared; Italy wanted Germany so very badly. Ve... Germany could help me, right? Germany can do anything! The air shifted from comforting to menacing, the menacing aura approached Italy slowly. _

_"V-Ve! Please don't hurt me! Whatever I did I'm sorry!" Italy cried, the warm tears sliding down his cheeks. Then suddenly everything was doused in a bright light, Italy yelped in pain and shut his eyes against the harsh light more tears flowed out of his eyes and dripped into the nothingness below. After a few seconds Italy opened his eye, he could see himself but he could see nothing else. He was indeed floating, it was a strange feeling to be unsuspended and yet to not be plummeting down to the hard and unforgiving ground. _

_Italy felt a presence behind him and he twisted his body and he quickly noticed that there was... nothing. Italy started to whimper. "Ger-Germa-any..." he whimpered "Please help me" he didn't notice the darkness creeping up his leg until it reached his knee, he had felt a strange tingling sensation and looked down to see his legs being effulged by inky black ooze. He screamed and thrashed as the blackness continued its silent march up his body, the tingling turned into pain and his terrified screeches became howls of pain. _

_"GERMANY! HELP ME!" and then the darkness was over his head and then his arms were effulged, the darkness smoothed out and then Italy was Italy once more except his entire being was inky black. He opened his eyes and they were a glowing red, he smiled a large smile with pearly white teeth. _

_"Germany~!" he called but his voice was no longer flowery and sweet, it was smooth and dangerous promising pain. "Wait up for me~!" _

That had been a few weeks ago, and everything has gone to hell since. Romano, Japan, Germany and Canada all sat together their appearances dishevelled and they had small cuts and bruises. Romano had a large, deep cut on his arm that has been hurriedly bandaged. How did they get here? Well let's go back to when everyone knew something was wrong.

France walked down the hall; he had his arms crosses as he pouted. _Angleterre is such a grump, I only wished to share l'amore with him. _He wandered down the hall slowly, in no rush to get back to his room. Nothing was going to happen to him in the Spanish embassy now was it? Spain is such a good host why does he insist on being with that grumpy Romano-Italy? Now that France thought about it he realized that Italy wasn't at the world meeting. Where was that ball of sunshine? He doesn't usually miss meetings when their so close to his home, France was so deep in thought he didn't notice the footsteps behind him as he walked. He was pulled out of thought when someone cleared their thought behind him, he swung around to be confronted with... Italy?

"Italy! Why weren't you at the meeting?" France asked, and then it hit him "Italy..? Your-" He dodged the knife that was aimed straight between his eyes. Italy smiled a white smile that was in deep contrast with his inky black skin, clothes hair. He held three knives in each hand as he slashed at France, cutting through clothes and skin. France stumbled and fell covered in cuts and his own blood, his cerulean blue eyes slowly looked up at not-Italy.

"y-you're not It-Italy..." his formally smooth voice rasped, "Who are y-you..?" Not-Italy's smile was monster like as he took one step towards the bleeding France. Another step, and then another, until he was standing above him.

"I'm your death, your grim reaper, the last." The Not-Italy said as he kneeled down, and then drove the knife deep into Frances back stopping his heart, his lungs, his breath, stopping his life for good. Not-Italy giggled and then got up not bothering to grab any of his knives, he no longer had fingerprints so why bother? He giggled as he walked down the hallway, covered in the dead nation's blood; he turned the corner just as an American nation turned the other corner and screamed dropping his Micky-D's. The soda hit the ground and the Pepsi splattered all over the floor and the legs of America's pants but he didn't notice; he was too busy screaming bloody murder as he stared at the bloody corpse that was once one of his father figures.

France's glazed over eyes stared at the wall as he laid in his blood, his mouth still open in shock.

Not-Italy dropped out a window and began planning the next fun outing, he giggled as he disappeared into the alleyways of Madrid.

author's notes:

yeeeaaaaa... my first fanficcy, hope you like it will only get my angsty as we go. as i intend to kill of mostly everyone ;-; i'm sorry please no hate meeee, so yea review who yuo would like to see die next, please try not to hate me i'll write some nicer sugar fluff ficcy's to make you feel better when i finish this one. ok? thanks! i hope you enjoyed it! i look forward to seeing you all around!


	2. Two for one

_disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but I own this story... MINE. _

The entire meeting place was in chaos, everyone was arguing about who had killed France, while Canada, America, and England tried hard to fight back tears although England would never admit it.

"I believe it was Russia-san" Japan quietly and politely stated. He sat with his hands folded on his lap and his emotionless stare unsettled anyone who looked to long.

"That is ridiculous, aru!" China exclaimed "Russia doesn't use knives and they were all over the scene, aru! How do we know your not trying to cover up for yourself?" China glared at his younger brother, his hands balled into fists but covered by his long sleeves. Russia sat next to China smiling his smile as only he can do, Austria sitting next to him was thoroughly creep-ed out and leaned away from Russia and engaged in conversation with Norway.

"China! You shouldn't say anything we know you're a fan on knives too!" Hungary spoke up defending her friend; she took a picture of Poland molesting Lithuania "Besides, we'll get no where like this" she muttered as she flicked through the pictures.

"DUDES QUIT IT!" a loud voice cut through the chaos quickly silencing it "We can't argue like we normally do! A nation is dead we have to something about this crap!" America glared at everyone; meanwhile everyone looked down a little ashamed for behaving ridiculously. Everyone was also reeling from shock a bit, America isn't usually so serious, the death of France must have really affected the normally happy nation.

"Ok now that we can finally get moving on with this meet-" England started to say to be interrupted by Germany of all nations.

"Wait. Where's Italy?" the Germanic nation questioned worriedly, his hands splayed on the table, everyone turned their heads towards Romano, sending the Italian a questioning look.

"Hey! Don't look at me!" he raised his hands in surrender "I have no idea where my idiot brother is." The nations most involved with Italy (Japan, Austria, Germany, Hungary, Prussia, Spain, and Romano after a second of realizing what he just said) paled in realization that for all they knew he could be laying dead somewhere like France was.

"We have to find him!" Hungary jumped up from her seat, motherly instincts setting in "He could be in danger!"

-Meanwhile outside the window-

Not-Italy crouched just under the window, listening to every word, smothering giggles with his hand. Oh this was so amusing to watch the nations scamper around in panic, how fun it would be to slit all their throats. His black uniform was clean of France's blood now but he still had to be careful because having inky black, skin, hair, and clothes was quite the give away and any time he put anything on it just changed to black too. Luckily there were bushes near the window he had picked so he was still hidden; only a shame that he couldn't pop in on the nations. But for his plan to work he needed to remain secret for as long as possible; Not-Italy stood and walked away a gleaming smile set on his face while his red eyes glinted mischievously. He even knew who to target next, his smile grew as he thought of the shock that will soon swim in green eyes.

-Back in the conference room-

Everyone had agreed that finding Italy was very important; no one wanted another nation to die. Not only was there emotional attachment to the other personifications but the people of the nation will suffer too, as now the country of France now has to be supported by England. The nations dispersed into the hall traveling in pairs to try to ward of the attacks; Poland and Hungary walked down the hall.

"Like, who do you think it is?" Poland asked casually, flicking his hair over his shoulder.

"I have no idea… I hope my Ita-chan isn't in danger…" she whispered quietly, eyes downcast. She walked slowly, her entire being weighed down by worry for Italy. Poland put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped a bit.

"Like, don't worry we'll totally find the guy. He'll be like totally fine." Hungary smiled a bit at this, and gave Poland a hug.

"Thanks Poland, I needed that." She murmured into his shoulder, Poland hugged her back.

"Now that you're like, feeling better, which do you think? Like, pink with glitter or green with metallic?" he released the hug and continued to walk down the hall, Hungary followed him giggling. She opened her mouth to answer but before a sound could leave her six knives buried themselves deep into Poland's back, he fell over and coughed up blood. Hungary pulled out her frying pan and whirled around to see… Italy… holding six more knives… "Like... Italy..? What..?" Poland had moved onto his side and saw him, Hungary rushed to Poland's side.

"Poland! Hold on it's going to be ok!" she said heavily, her voice heavy with confusion and sadness. The life bleed out of Poland until there was no more, and he was another bloody corpse on the ground. "Italy! Why did you…?" Hungary had started to angrily lecture only to notice that Italy was inky black with glowing read eyes, Not-Italy was giggling tears streaming down his face in pure glee.

"I'm Not-Italy!" he giggled as he advanced, Hungary held up her frying pan. "Oh come now… don't you want to play? I played with France too, but he wasn't very much fun. Will you be fun?" he questioned gleefully, his smile spread until it seemed to be physically impossible. Hungary paled as she took a step back.

"Yo-you killed France!?" her eyes widened even more at his enthusiastic nod; he giggled at the look on her face. Oh how fun this was, he enjoyed the confusion swimming through her green eyes. He ran up to her and aimed one hand with three knives at her shoulder which she blocked with her frying pan, he brought the other hand to her side before she could react and the three knives went deep into her side.

Blood spurted from her mouth and covered Not-Italy's hair and face, he laughed gleefully. He pulled the knives from her side and more blood ran down her side, she stumbled but managed to hit Not-Italy in the face. He flew to the side and hit the ground, his smile never leaving his face. He looked at her, and giggled darkly, he got up his eyes glinting. He walked towards her; she backed away but had forgotten about Poland and tripped over the former nation's corpse. She fell on her back and lost her grip on her pan, Not-Italy was over her in a second, his knives poised to kill. With no other option Hungary screamed, it echoed across the halls and reached an Austrians ears. Austria, Switzerland and Liechtenstein all swung around.

"That was Hungary!" Austria exclaimed, his eyes widening in horror, he ran towards where he heard the scream. "HUNGARY!" he ran with Switzerland and his sister following straight on his heels, they were also screaming to Hungary. They turned the corner and they stopped like they had hit an invisible wall. Austria gasped as he looked down the hallway.

There was blood all over the floor, Hungary lay dead over Poland, her dead eyes bored straight into Austria's wide ones. There were knives sticking out of Poland's back like spines, and Hungary had some large deep wounds in her abdomen and her throat was slit. Tears slid down the three Germanic nation's faces, Austria walked towards his ex. Wife and her friend and knelt beside them. Not caring of the blood that would stain his clothes, and he started to sob, he hugged Hungary to his chest and he wailed his pain. Switzerland noticed bloody footprints on the ground, he let go of his sister and followed them.

_That bastard! How could he! _Rather angry thoughts circulated through his mind, as the Swiss nation ran after the footprints ignoring his little sister as she called after him asking where he was going. He followed the footprints to a broken window; he leant out the window and saw no one. He screamed in frustration, he leant against the window and cried as he listened to his friends wailing sobs. He slid to the floor and nations ran past to see what was the matter, a few stopped to see if he was ok. He said nothing, his shoulders shaking with sobs he would point down the hallway. Towards the corpse of a hipster cross-dresser and a motherly yaoi fan, soon everyone knew what was the matter and everyone spent the night mourning the odd pair.

Not-Italy laughed as he listened to the crying, oh how fun this is. He turned down an alleyway and continued on until he reached his hotel, it was a run down shack but it was the only place willing to take him. He put his clothes in the washer and flopped on the bed, his inky black skin invisible in the darkness. He closed his eyes and went to sleep with a smile on his face.

-Deep inside Italy's mind-

Italy sat on a chair, in a straight jacket and bound in chains, he screamed as he watched his body murder France, Poland, and Hungary. His shoulders shook as he cried for them, tears soaking the front of his 'jacket'.

"_I'm so so sorry! I don't want this to happen!"_ he screamed into the nothingness around him. He sat in a field of daisies, but it was all wilted but a circle around him and the large screen from which he could see, hear, and smell what is going on outside his mind. It was terrible all his friends… they were being murdered… by his body! Oh how could this have happened…!? Italy wished it would end, that he could just eat pasta again, hug Germany and play with everyone else. But he knew it would never be the same again…

"_Please make it stop! Please! Ill do anything!"_ Italy hung his head, tears dripped down his face "_anything…" _

_authors note: wellp another angsty angst chappy. I hope you enjoy, now in all seriousness I would really like some reviews. and feedback is nice please don't just say update. I get that means you like it, but I want to know why you like it. and who you want to die next... so yea no hate please. I apologize if you really liked Poland or Hungary but this IS angst I just don't see angst without people dying. now if you have a request just put it in your review or pm me. I stick mostly to the Hetalia fandom but ill try some other anime's if your really nice and I like you. I do mostly angst and moe (cute) sorryyyy I can only be cute or depressing... deal with it. aside from that hope you enjoyed! -Ches _


	3. peeking through the window

_disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the Spanish embassy, or Italy's uniform. so no get your hopes up. (doesn't mean I don't wish that I owned these things, but I don't :( sadly)_

Japan stood at the scene where Hungary and Poland where murdered, he looked at the footprints. They were custom jobs; he couldn't find a match anywhere. It was terrifying to see all the Germanic nations like that… they all broke down crying it had been the first time Japan saw more then anger from the Swiss nation. The Asian nation shuddered; it was… unsettling to see Switzerland like that… a hand settled on Japan's shoulder, startling him, he turned around and was calmed when he realized it was his friend Germany.

"Are you alright?" Germany inquired, his voice full of sincerity, his eyes where red rimmed as if he had been crying, Japan knew he had been.

"Hai. I am alright." Japan sighed wearily, "I haven't been able to get anything… no fingerprints, match on shoes, nothing we can use against him" Germany nodded, he stared at the blood for what seemed like an age.

"We should go… Staring at blood… Won't help us much" Germany whispered, he tugged at Japan's arm. Japan looked up at his friend; he knew how rough this must be for him. Japan nodded and let Germany lead him down the hall. They walked in a choking silence, both wishing to break it but unsure how to do so.

They continued down the hallway, walking past the door to the meeting room, the continued towards their rooms just beyond that. Japan waved goodbye to Germany and entered his room. He closed the door and when he looked up he froze, his entire room was destroyed. The desk was snapped in half, papers ripped up and scattered like snow, the mirror and lamps were shattered. The covers were ripped off the bed and the end tables where knocked over.

Japan's hand scrambled for the door knob, he quickly opened the door, and he rushed out and ran down the hallway to Germany's room. He knocked on the door, and quickly pushed into the room when Germany opened the door.

"Japan! What are you doing?" Thankfully his room was intact; Japan slumped into one of the chairs and stared at his hands. They were shaking, he looked up at Germany, and Germany froze at realizing how terrified the Japanese nation looked. "Japan? What happened?" Japan's mouth opened then closed, he took a minute to calm down, and he opened his mouth again and began to speak.

"My room was destroyed, nothing is left of it." His voice dropped to a terrified whisper "does this mean I'm next?" he looked down at his lap and hands, he was terrified he wasn't ready to die, although when you've lived as long as he had death doesn't seem like a possibility. But now, with three nations dead and one missing, the possibility was now crushing him. He could die, it never seemed like he could before, how were you supposed to deal with this?

Germany put his hand on Japan's shoulder, making the nation jump and he was pulled from his musings. "Japan, just because your room was trashed doesn't mean your going to die; if you want you can share my room with me," Germany said reassuringly Japan looked relieved and nodded, but he looked back down t his hands again lost in thought. Germany sighed but left Japan to his thoughts; times were rough especially with nations being murdered left and right. The two murders had barely been even two days apart from each other; whoever was behind this wasn't one to waste time. Germany smiled it reminded him of his friend Italy, he was the exact opposite. He would sleep in, wouldn't do his laps, always eating pasta, he was very touchy feely too, always with the singing and the laughing and weird accents.

Germany sat in the other chair, and both nations, old friends and allies, sat in silence reminiscing or thinking about the future. They never noticed the red eyes watching them from the window; Not-Italy quickly grew bored with them and turned to see what the other nations where doing.

After Germany's room was Switzerland's and Liechtenstein's room, they were cleaning their rifles (how did they manage to sneak all THOSE into the conference!?) and speaking quietly in German. Which Not-Italy didn't understand and didn't care to, he went to the next one. It was Austria's he sat crying as usual since Hungary's death, Not-Italy watched the Austrian nation sob for a bit but moved on to the next room.

It was that nation's room, the one with the bear and weird curl. Oh what was his name? Not-Italy couldn't think of it; _Cancer? Canadia? Canned turkey? Oh I don't know… well whatever… _Not-Italy was startled out of his musings when Can-something's (seriously he had no idea what his name was) door was thrown open and bounced off the wall; it was America _oh I guess their brothers, geez they look so much alike. No wonder can… Canpop? Cancord? Cantukey? Whatever his name is, he's always mistaken for America. _

"Hey bro how's a going?" He greeted 'happily' sat next to whatever his name was, _I'm just going to call him bear-guy,_ and the newly dubbed bear-guy said something but Not-Italy missed it. "Yea, you were closer to him then I was. I figured it must be hitting you pretty hard…" bear-guy said something like 'Oh so now you can read the atmosphere.' America raised his hands in defence, "Hey you're my bro, aren't I allowed to care?" bear-guy nodded, he then hugged America and started to cry, America hugged him back and began to weep also.

Not-Italy smiled at this, he took great pride in the fact he put those tears there. He giggled; he covered his mouth and smothered the giggles, his body quaked he was giggling so hard. No no he needed to calm down, wouldn't do if he was caught so prematurely in the plan, now would it? He calmed down, but didn't risk looking in the glass for a second time, didn't want to break down into laughter again.

Not-Italy walked towards the next window, he didn't remember why he had come to the windows in the first place. Perhaps to pick out the next target, he hadn't a clue who to pick, since Poland's and Hungary's deaths the nations have been walking in three's and four's. Hard to kill four nations at once; especially since most of them had some pretty decent training, Not-Italy had received allot of training as well and Italy had some hidden skills that he got access to when he took over. Not-Italy smiled, and peeked into the next window, not expecting Romano to be looking out the window.

Romano's eyes flicked towards the glowing red that appeared in the window. He jumped up and ran towards the window and opened it, but whatever had caused the redness had gone. Romano huffed, damn it! He didn't catch the bastard, he knew, just knew that that redness was created by the murderer. He shut the window huffily; he crossed his arms and flopped on the bed, cursing himself.

Not-Italy had in fact hidden behind a rather large and convenient tree; he needed to thank whoever planted these strangely convenient plants around the hotel and embassy. He sighed that was close, couldn't be caught so early on, especially by _him. _It would ruin the entire plan! He wasn't about to let the nations slip through his fingers so easily, he was going to kill them all, he _swore _it.

The nations in the hotel all fell into a fitful sleep and Not-Italy declared hunting for a target a complete flop for the night, so he headed back to his hotel and shed his clothes. Truthfully he had just kept Italy's uniform, and the thing was pretty uncomfortable to sleep in. He ate some of the pasta he had made earlier in the day, he ate it quickly while he watched some Spanish soap opera.

He rolled his eyes at the _hundredth _time they said they loved each other, not much plot, it was annoying but he didn't want to pay fines for sticking a knife through the TV… again. Not-Italy turned the TV off, and put his dishes in the sink; he downed a couple glasses of water then flopped into bed. He snaked his way under the covers, and pulled them up to his neck then rolled onto his side. He fell asleep, smiling at the thoughts running through his head. Ideas for tomorrow, oh how fun it will be, to watch the nations scramble for cover under his shadow.

-Deep inside Italy's mind-

Italy was thankful that no one had been killed today, he screamed when Romano almost caught Not-Italy.

"_FRATELLO! I'M HERE! FIND ME!"_ he screeched, but Not-Italy had hid and Romano didn't see him, Italy let a few tears loose. He was scared, he didn't want his body to continue on its mission to destroy everything, and he wanted everything to be the way it was. When everything was perfect; he wished for the imperfect perfection he had left behind. Sure nations fought but they hadn't had a large war in quite a while at it was peaceful, everyone was doing alright in economy, although America's was a little rough at the moment, but they can work through that.

Italy cried, sadly he couldn't sleep in here, so he watched the disturbing dreams of Not-Italy. Tears slid down his face as he watched, Not-Italy killed all the nations, Italy had to remind him-self that it was only Not-Italy's dreams; that it wasn't really happening. But he cried for his friends all the same.

"_No… NO DON'T DIE! Please don't leave me…"_ Italy sobbed, his shoulders shaking in the straight jacket, the chains rattling with each movement. Why… why was this happening… Italy hung his head _"why..?" _he whispered, his voice raspy from screaming, _"Why us..?"_

_authors notes:_

_Hola! I hope you are enjoying the story, nope no one died this chappy. and man I am I on FIRE. I mean look at dis 3 chapters in one week. I'm spoiling you guys. well since I plan to update every Saturday, at least but if I finish two chapters or more, whenever I finish a chapter I'll publish the one before I ok? so I'm at least one ahead. but I will always update on Saturday so woo. again reviews are welcome, tell me who you want to die next, and um lets see... oh yes! also if you want put your favorite song in the review, i'm looking for new tunes. now lets see I want to get the words count to 2,000 so lets ramble a bit._

_ok here take a factoid, for those of you who DIDN'T know, when the berlin wall went up after WW2 Germany was divided into 4 pieces. 1 for England to control, 1 for France to control, 1 for USA to control, and the largest piece (practically all of east Germany) went to Russia for control. in the Hetalia fandom this usually means that Prussia stays at Russia's house until the berlin wall comes down. Prussia basically represents eastern Germany ah haaa. who would've thunk it? it is now 2,002! thank you and goodbye -Ches_


	4. The apple of my eye

_disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the countries. if I did there would be many raves all the time :D_

Not-Italy rose with a smile on his face, as usual, his dreams fading from his mind. He grabbed his clothes from the dryer and changed back into his uniform; he grabbed all his knives and set off. Maybe to kill maybe to just observe, he wasn't sure yet, but he knew it would be fun either way. He grabbed an apple and set on his way, towards the hotel where the nations were staying.

He twisted and turned through the alleyways, and came to the hotel to see that, there were a few nations on their way the embassy. He squinted a bit, and then smiled; it was Germany, Japan, Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Prussia, and Lithuania. He hid and a tree and grabbed some knives, when they had passed him, he threw the six knives at Lithuania's back.

They hit Toris dead on; he fell and coughed up blood. Liechtenstein screamed as he fell, Prussia quickly knelt down to quietly speak to him. Japan had called the ambulance but he was shaking. Germany, Austria, and Switzerland ran towards him, he turned and ran towards the alleyways. He ducked into them and quickly lost the nations, he smiled, such a shame he didn't get up close but there were plenty of nations there. That would have been too hazardous; getting caught now would jeopardize everything.

-Back at the crime scene-

Germany was in a word, shocked, the killer had gotten so daring in a matter of days. Four nations dead was four nations too many. But it seemed the killer had a large appetite, Austria and Switzerland had went ahead to see if Lithuania was still alive. Germany stopped by the tree where the killer had been hiding; he looked for something, anything to help catch him. He froze, and then smiled; he picked up the red object. It was an apple, it had been bitten, and they could scan for his DNA! They could catch him!

He grabbed the apple and headed to the crime scene, there were tears in everyone's eyes, and he didn't need to ask, Lithuania didn't make it. He cleared his throat, everyone looked at him, he held up the apple.

"I found this. It was the killer's" he stated soberly, everyone's eyes widened in shock.

"We could DNA test it." Japan suggested, he sounded disinterested but he was very interested, if they knew who it was they could fight them. They could also stop the murders, and no one else would die. Germany picked up the body and carried him to the meeting; the others flocked around him to block Lithuania from view.

When they arrived at the meeting, Germany laid Lithuania on his stomach on the table. All the nations went into uproar. Not-Italy crouched under the window listening to the chaos, smiling but managing to stay silent.

"What happened to little Lithuania?" Russia inquired his voice uncharacteristically hard, Germany lowered his eyes.

"The murderer hid behind a tree and threw the knives at him" surprisingly it was Prussia who spoke, his voice weighted with sadness, "the murderer escaped through the alleyways, and Lithuania didn't make it." There was murmuring; the killer was getting daring, and who knew who would be next now.

"But," Japan spoke up and he held up the bitten apple "he left this behind" America grabbed the apple, he looked at it.

"Wait… he bit this?" America wondered out loud, Japan nodded, "dude! We can get this checked out and find out who it is!" Outside the window Not-Italy's eyes flashed, his apple, oh crap. He needed to get that back right away, but he was going to have to wait.

"Who is going to watch the apple then, aru?" China asked from inside the building, _oh yes tell us who. _Not-Italy listened closely, but America had the sense to be quiet for this and he couldn't here anything except for, keep this in your pocket. Well damn… that could be anyone how the hell was he supposed to find it? He supposed the nation now holding the apple nodded because the meeting launched into full spring; they decided to move the meeting to America so they could get results right away.

Damn damn damn. How was _he _a person with inky black skin, hair and clothes with red eyes supposed to get _there_!? He practically screamed suspicious, like seriously, Not-Italy sighed well they were leaving on the private jet tomorrow. Time for hitch-hiking, Not-Italy stood up and went to grab his things. He knew where the jet was, no time like the present to get on and wait for them to get there.

-Back at the meeting-

The meeting was adjourned and Japan was nervous, they passed him the baton and he didn't know what to do. He wrapped the apple in saurian-wrap and put it in his inner coat pocket; he then buttoned up his coat. Luckily there wasn't a prominence in his coat; the killer wouldn't know he had the apple. Hopefully… they knew about nations who knew what else they knew.

Germany put his hand on Japan's shoulder, his eyes said it all, Japan quirked a small smile. He nodded his head and they went to pack up for the flight to America, Japan was a little excited it had been a while since he'd gone to see his friends home. They where going to go to New York, for no real reason, other then to do the DNA test.

Everyone had packed up, and went to sleep early so they could wake up early tomorrow. Not-Italy was already on the plane and hidden in the cargo hold, sitting amongst the bags the nations had brought aboard already. He slept, once again with a smile on his face, with the baggage.

-The next morning-

Germany sat up, he hadn't opened his eyes yet, when he did he found Japan staring at him intently from the chair by the window. Germany jumped a little at seeing Japan up before…. 6:00am, he looked back at Japan.

"Japan? Are you alright?" he asked the Asian nation, Japans eyes focused and his eyes darted around.

"Hm? What?" he inquired his voice heavy, he leaned in on himself and fell sound asleep; Germany tilted his head ever so slightly. What the hell was going on with him? The whole thing seemed to be getting under the other nations skin, he's had trouble sleeping, been extremely jumpy and of course he keeps just drifting away, getting soaked up in his thoughts.

Germany got up, changed and packed his carry on, he also packed Japan's. He picked both the bags up then shook Japan's shoulder; Japan opened his eyes and sprung up from the chair. You could see the bags under his eyes.

"Calm down. It's alright time to go to the plane." Japan visibly relaxed, or well it looked that way only to those who knew Japan well, to those who didn't know him so well, it didn't look like much happened. Japan nodded and followed Germany to the plane; they met up with Russia and China at some point so they went to a cab together.

Turns out they were some of the last to leave, but it was alright, the others soon caught up and they were flying away from Spain, and hopefully the killer too. Japan had sat in his seat and fell asleep almost instantly; Germany sat next to him and worried over his friend in secret.

Unknown to the countries, the killer was in their own luggage hold, sitting amongst the suit cases, picking his nails with one of his knives. Not-Italy was bored to put it simply, he knew better then to kill anyone while on the plane, where is there to hide? He would get caught, but when they finally got there, he knew exactly who to take out.

He smiled and put his plan into action, he searched for the suitcase, and he found it. It was a wooden case; he opened it and carved a message into the top, and shredded the clothes within. He closed the case and sat against the large duffel, a satisfied smile on his face.

In the passenger part of the plane, Russia had a bad feeling; his gut told him something was wrong. He learned to trust his gut over the centuries; it hadn't let him down yet, so he got up.

"Where are you going, aru?" the Chinese man asked, he looked curiously up at Russia, Russia smiled.

"Something about this flight feels wrong," He whispered, "going to find out what." China sighed, looked at him, then nodded and waved him off, returning to his book. Russia walked down the aisle, smiling as he went, a few nations sent him strange looks but no one questioned him. That was good, wouldn't do if he was stopped, he had a feeling. He wasn't sure what but his gut told him something was wrong, maybe the plane was rigged? No from the style of killing you could tell the killer preferred to be up close and personal, blowing up the plane while effective isn't close and personal.

He snapped out of his musings, he was in front of the door to the luggage hold. He opened the door; he went in and wandered amongst the suit cases, not sure what he was looking for but at the same time looking for something.

He walked towards a dark shadow in the corner, his gut told him something was there, he was almost there when.

"RUSSIA WHERE ARE YOU!?" America screamed, Russia stopped, he didn't want to be blamed but… "RUSSIA!" Russia sighed and turned away, walking out of the luggage hold with a smile on his face.

"Da? America?"

Not-Italy opened his eyes, and let out a sigh of relief, that was too close. He was almost caught that time. He slid to the floor; Not-Italy giggled a bit, that was thrilling! He was going to have to be much more careful, he wasn't ready to be caught at all. Not for a while yet. His smile replicated the smile of the Cheshire-Cat, and his eyes sparkled with a dark mischief. A dark giggle slipped from his mouth, he hoped the next nation was prepared for him. It was almost too easy now, but as his smile grew, he knew it would be fun.

_Authors note:_

_ooooh scary! hope you enjoyed it! I hope you caught the Cheshire-Cat! he's my favorite Alice in wonderland character! seriously how can you not love a floating, smiling magic cat? I mean c'mon it has awesome written all over it! aside from that man I am just pumping out these chapters! oh well I suppose you want a random factoid huh? well lets see..._

_did you know that polar bears have black skin? _

_how about that when a great white goes seal hunting it can clear it's entire body a few feet out of the water?_

_or maybe that if you rub England's eyebrows he falls asleep? (isn't that just cute!?)_

_or even that Scotland has these games and they throw logs around while they dance about in kilts and drink beer? _

_bet you didn't know those last two, aside from that _

_adios amigos! -Ches _


	5. the case at hand

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. sadly..._

Japan's eyes snapped open, and he shot straight up, his breathing quick and his heart pounding.

"Japan, Japan it's alright calm down." Germany said soothingly but it sounded so far away to the panicked Asian nation, Japan tried to slow his breathing but he failed, his eyes filled with tears. Everyone was looking at the nation, no one had every seen him show so much emotion.

China was next to Japan in an instant, soothingly whispering in Chinese and petting his hair. Japan clung to his older brother figure, China shot everyone a glare and they quickly ignored the scene. Japan cried, his tears dripping down his face and onto China's chest.

Germany watched in shock, there had been a bit of turbulence and it had caused a panic attack for Japan. He hoped his friend was ok, Germany never saw Japan so upset before, the murders must have really shaken him up. Japan regained control of him-self, and was back to his usual emotionless self.

Japan although admittedly feeling better since he cried, felt bad for making everyone worry about him. He leaned back and looked out his window, watching the ocean go by, with a small quirk of his lips (seen by his friends as a grin) he fell into a peaceful slumber.

Germany smiled, as he watched his friend sleep peacefully for the first time since the murders started (about 5-6 days) Japan's breathing was even and relaxed. Germany turned to China, who was reading a book next to him.

"How did you do that?" he inquired, China looked up at him, gave a small smile.

"Centuries of practice, aru," he murmured as to not wake the peaceful nation, mostly everyone was asleep, Sweden was by far the most comical as he was leaning against his window, dead to the world. (Luckily this is meant figuratively.) Everyone sat on the plane, in their rows of 3-4 some sleeping, some watching the ocean; Russia and America were having a staring (glaring) contest while being forced to sit next to each other (a fight had broken out when Russia had disappeared and America accused him of the murders) they sat about 4 rows ahead of Germany, on America's left at the window sat Canada who was asleep and on Russia's right was Belarus….

Shouldn't need to explain that one, right behind America and Russia sat Austria (listening to music), Switzerland (looking out the window), Liechtenstein (sleeping), and Spain (also sleeping); The row behind those four held Ukraine(sleeping), Estonia (doing work on laptop), Latvia (poor boy shivered even when asleep) and Romania(looking out window). And behind them sat/slept Norway (reading), Denmark (snoring for Pete's sake), Iceland (either asleep or day dreaming), and Sweden (as previously mentioned sleeping against window). In the row just in front of Germany, Prussia, China and Japan; sat Romano (sleeping although fitfully), Finland (doodling in a notebook), England (reading a book in some un-readable language), and South Korea (attempting to get China's attention).

Germany sighed in resignation; they still had a while to go, might as well sleep now. Maybe he could even tune out Korea's insistent jabbering, he doubted it though, seriously doubted it.

"China! China! China! China talk to me Da-Ze!" Korea whined and pulled at China's book.

"Stop being so immature, aru! And loud Japan is sleeping!" China hissed quietly, Korea's eyes slid to the Japanese nation. He turned around and sat in his seat pouting quietly, Germany looked at China with a raised eyebrow. China shrugged, and with a small smile returned to his book. Germany supposed it was 'Centuries of practice, aru' but with Korea finally calmed down Germany could now sleep in peace. Germany slipped into the land of dreams, his body relaxing as he fell asleep.

-A few more hours later-

The plane had landed and everyone was groggy from sleep or just from the fact of sitting on the plane for so long. Not-Italy shrugged on a long trench coat and a hat, they both turned black the second he put them on. While everyone was still waking up, he dashed out of the plane with his bag of knives and other assorted objects.

He could he yelling behind him but he was too fast and made it out of the airport and onto the streets, in which he quickly faded into the shadows of the crowd.

"Verdammit!" Not-Italy smiled at hearing Prussia's out burst, he disappeared into the alleyways to find himself a hotel. He'd have to figure out where the countries where going, but not hard since Germany had texted him the hotel name and the location of the laboratory they were going to. How nice of him, wasn't it? Germany he was so thoughtful, to make sure Italy could find them, too bad it will be his downfall.

-Prussia's POV-

A figure had dashed out of the luggage hold, wearing a large trench coat with the collar turned up, and a hat. They had a bag and they dashed out quickly, Prussia gave chase to the person. When they to the stairs the person jumped over the other side and ran into the crowd, their coat flowing behind them. Prussia kept as close as possible but soon fell behind, and lost them.

"Verdammit!" He yelled angrily, he stalked back into the air port, and no one asked anything. Everyone had gathered their stuff and some cars picked them up to drop them off at their hotel, Prussia sat with Germany, Japan and Romano. Prussia sighed as he leaned against the window.

"If you fucking sigh one more time I will shoot you" an angry voice snapped from the other side of Germany, didn't take much time to figure out who said that. Prussia flipped him the bird and continued his desolate stare out the window. He ignored Romano's indignant squawking; rubbed Gilbird against his cheek, Prussia petted him absently. He was so mad at himself; no one saw the killers face, and hell he had been on the same plane with them all those hours! They didn't see anything to distinguish him from anyone else in the crowd.

Prussia began hitting his head on the window, his head hitting the window made a weird muffled sound because of his hair, thump thump thump thump.

"Bruder, you shouldn't hurt yourself." His bruder warned anxiously, he had put his hand on Prussia's shoulder.

"Don't worry west! I'll be fine!"

"Because he has no brain to damage," Muttered an indignant Romano, his arms crossed as he sulked.

"Hey!" Prussia didn't squawk angrily, because Prussia is lord of all things awesome and therefore does not, squawk or squeal. As arguing broke out in the back seat, Japan sat shotgun, and gave a small smile at their antics.

The cab pulled up to their hotel, and everyone was loaded up with their bags, they were all rooming together. Because of safety in numbers, it proved to be an awkward night ahead of them.

-Later making sleeping arrangements-

It had been many awkward moments later and Japan was at the end of his fuse. It had been decided that the German brothers would share a bed, but both Romano and Japan bristled at the thought of sharing a bed.

"Romano-san I respect you-" Japan started to say, but was interrupted

"No way in hell, am I sharing a bed with you!" Romano snapped hotly, Japan took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak- "And I want the goddamn bed!" Japan had, had enough of this.

"Romano-san." Japan said his eyes cold, halting the other nation in his rant, "I respect your wishes but I will not, sleep on the couch." He finished with finality. Romano opened his mouth the respond but a glare from Japan shut him up. And thus it was decided, everyone slept soundly and Romano only grumbled on the inside.

-In China's, Russia's, America's and Canada's room-

While sleeping arrangements were being made, china opened his wooden suitcase, he screamed. Russia and America stopped arguing they came over (Canada included) to see what was the matter.

China's clothes were shredded, and a message was carved into the inside of the lid, it said _guess who? _Needless to say, America clung to Canada in wide eyed terror, and everyone else froze in shock.

"Don't worry, Da?" Russia smiled, "I'll protect you."

"Dude! Don't be silly! I'm the hero!" America said loudly (ear destroying-ly loud) when everyone's ears stopped ringing.

"I'll be fine, aru. No worries, non at all" He said calm and steady but his hands betrayed him. Russia looked at him, nodded and turned to go into bed. China was grateful he was sharing with him instead of America, he smelled and wouldn't give him his money.

Everyone shut off, the lights and plopped down in their respective beds (America sharing with Canada in the bed by the window and Russia and China sharing with the bed closer to the bathroom) and fell asleep. For some it came quicker then others, eventually China slept, but he was terrified. Terrified for his future, he didn't want to die.

-Deep in Italy's mind-

Italy was hoping that the nations could DNA test the apple, almost desperately, what if they found out and killed his body? Would he die too? Oh he didn't know, he whimpered as he watched Not-Italy check himself into a hotel, he had cried so many tears that the grass was a bright green.

He struggled to move, all he could do was wiggle a bit, his arms were trapped in the straight jacket, and he had been chained to the chair. He couldn't even kick his legs, a few more tears slid down his cheeks. It seemed so hopeless, it was life or death now, he knew the only way to stop his body was to die. But… he didn't want to die… but he didn't want his friends and family to die either.

He didn't want anymore nations to follow the path that Not-Italy had already forced four nations down; he wanted peace, just for it to go away. Just for a little while, his shoulders shook as he grieved for the passed nations. Oh he was so sorry. He looked around the meadow; it must have been a nice place before everything except the small bit he sat on wilted. (The circle had about a 15 feet radius, but the meadow was so much larger then that)

"_I'm so so sorry… if we get out of this I hope you can forgive me"_ Italy whimpered, he hung his head as Not-Italy began to dream.

"_please hurry, make it end."_

_Authors note: ah well I apologize for not getting this up earlier, fanfiction was like add new document? no way. so thus it's 7 or so hours later then I would usually post. but it's fine now! and oh geez... ominous ending much? don't worry poppets this isn't the end of this ficcy! and lets see random fact..._

_1. croissants are Austrian not French. _

_2. jellyfish don't have brains._

_3. you can walk a rabbit (its good for them, just not too long on pavement, bad for their feet)_

_4. dolphins have this orb thing in their foreheads that sends different vibrations into the water (to stun prey, to communicate, to navigate and the such) _


	6. Two fathers short

_disclaimer:__I don't own Hetalia, guns, knives or bitten apple._

Russia was awakened in the middle of the night once again, because of China's thrashing, Russia sighed. It appeared that the suitcase had given China nightmares, Russia was really worried for China in-fact he rather liked the older nation, viewed him as a rather close friend. It was weird for him to have 'Friends' no one really liked him, it made Russia sad, he only wanted a friend. He looked over at the North American brothers on the other bed beside him, he wouldn't admit this out loud but, he missed the times when he and America were friends.

It had been nice; it still was America wasn't afraid of him and always argued with him instead of shrinking away. But he still wanted to be friends with him, not argue; although it was fun it wore on the nerves. Russia sighed and gently shook China awake; China opened his eyes with a gasp and sat up, looking around wildly.

"More nightmare?" Russia asked his heavily accented voice breaking the silence. China jumped a little and looked at Russia, China relaxed a bit and nodded.

"Don't worry! I'll keep the nasty murder away, Da?" Russia said cheerily with a smile, China smiled too. He laid down and fell asleep again, there he hoped that China wouldn't have anymore nightmares that just wouldn't do. Besides Russia wanted to sleep too, he rolled over and fell asleep a smile on his face.

-The next morning-

Japan sat up in bed, ah victory was so sweet, and he stretched. His lips quirked up into a smile, it was a fine morning, the sides of his mouth slid down as he remembered recent events. The murders… Japan felt the nerves sink in again, and suddenly everything felt too small for him, he kicked off the blankets and pulled on a coat.

He went and stood on the small balcony they happened to have, he leaned on the railing, it was quiet but that's what you get when your balcony is in a back alley. Not many people come back here, well people of the right sort anyway, something moved and his eyes flicked towards it. A dark figure with a fedora and a trench coat was walking quickly down the alley, Japan's eyes widened, it was the killer. He remembered him running past him on the plane, he watched the killer as he turned the corner and disappeared.

He felt nothing but shock, he wouldn't have thought the killer to be so nonchalant, it was as if he hadn't a worry. Japan straightened, he had had a revelation, the killer was here for a reason. He turned back into the room, and looked at his sleeping roommates.

"Wake up!" he clapped his hands; the three men snapped to attention, (well not without some complaining from an angry Italian and a grumpy Prussian) "The killer was in the alley! Someone might die." Quickly everyone leapt from their bed or couch and dressed.

"Damn killer, damn New York, damn waking up early," grumpily muttered a not so happy Romano as he pulled on his shirt. Soon everyone had the building in alert; Japan hoped no one else was to die.

Not-Italy dodged around a corner as some nations ran down the hallway, he smiled, and his plan had worked. With the nations in disarray it was much easier to pick them off, England and America walked down the hallway. Not-Italy made sure the collar of his trench coat was turned up; his knives flew with deadly accuracy into England's back, the brit made a gargled noise as he fell.

"ENGLAND!" Six more knives buried themselves into America's left arm rendering it useless, the American nation grabbed his arm, and knelt by England tears streaming down his face, "England! No! No, don't leave me! ENGLAND!" the once colony screeched in agony, tears running down his face and splattering on the carpet, now forever stained red.

He turned away, leaving the American nation to scream his frustration as his father bleed to death, Not-Italy's mouth turned up as he heard America begging England to stay with him. Two nations turned the corner and came face to face with him; Not-Italy threw six more knives and caught the remaining Baltic States in the chests, three knives each.

Latvia fell with a scream, still shivering as he fell, and Estonia gave a yell and his glasses shattered when he hit the ground. Both were dead soon after, Not-Italy jumped out a window just as Russia, China, Mongolia, Korea, Belarus and Ukraine turned the corner. Not-Italy heard Russia gasp, he also heard some screaming and a few yells of surprise, he rolled as he hit the ground and looked up at the building he just jumped from.

Three stories up, Russia leaned out the window, murder in his eyes. Not-Italy pulled his fedora down a bit more and turned towards his hotel, he wished to take off this hat soon, his curl was very uncomfortable being bent to stay inside the hat, so it wouldn't give him away.

He arrived at his hotel, this one was a bit nicer then the last one, it had a properly working bathroom, everything was a nice cream color, it had a nice TV, nice kitchen, nice _soft _bed, and a random padded chair and table. He padded over to that chair and sat on it; he pulled it up to the table and crossed the recently deceased nations off his list, _seven nations so far… not bad. _He smiled to himself and looked out the window at the sky.

Seven nations in a little more then a week, not terribly great but not so bad either, although unfortunately they still had the apple. He pulled on his hat once more, he supposed he should go four for four then, he rose from his seat and he smiled as he closed the door, leaving the room empty once more.

-The hotel-

To say everyone was in an uproar was an understatement, three nations were dead and an emergency meeting was held. Everyone was yelling, including the more non-confrontational nations were screaming and shouting. Canada and Liechtenstein were locked in a screaming match, while America and Russia quarrelled, eventually one nation had enough.

"CUT IT OUT!" Spain boomed over everyone else, the usually smiling nation's face pulled into a scowl, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? WE HAVE NO TIME TO FIGHT EACHOTHER, THERE IS A MURDERER OUT THERE AND IF WE'RE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IT WILL BE EASIER FOR THE KILLER TO PICK US OFF! SO SHUT UP YOU IDIOTA'S!" needless to say everyone was put into an extremely shocked silence, they all stopped fighting immediately, looking at Spain with shock all over their faces. There was a sigh.

"The tomato bastard is right you know…" Romano said, everyone feeling the gap were England would normally agree with/insult Spain, "we need to work together otherwise we'll never get through this alive… we need to get that apple tested now."

Everyone looked to Japan, and he pulled out the apple from his pocket, Not-Italy's eyes widened in delight from his vantage point at the window. He pulled a gun from its holster at his hip and took aim.

Japan opened his mouth to say something when the apple suddenly exploded, nations yelled and ducked, while a bullet hole appeared in the wall. Russia, Austria, Germany, Switzerland and a few others swung towards the now shattered window and saw the quickly retreating dark figure.

"DAMN IT!" that feeling shared by a certain American nation was pretty much reciprocated by everyone within the room.

After a bit of discussing (with some bickering) what to do, everyone went to their rooms. Switzerland sat in the room he and his sister had shared with England, he sat on the edge of his bed with his head resting on his fists, mulling everything over. He sighed, and stood up and went to the bathroom, leaving his sister to play with Sealand, Seborga and Wy in the main room. He washed his face, and just looked into the mirror, why was this happening? He just couldn't understand why.

He heard screams, he heard _Liechtenstein _scream, and he pulled open the door and had his gun ready. He gasped at what he saw, Wy and Seborga lay dead in their blood, while Sealand and his sister huddled in a corner. He rushed over to them and kneeled before the two, his little sister threw herself into his arms and he hugged her.

"What happened?" he asked Sealand sternly, he petted Liechtenstein's hair.

"T-this guy came in threw the w-window, he w-wore this trench coat and a fedora, and he k-k-ki-killed… Wy and Seborga… he…" Sealand quickly stuttered; tears ran down his face as he twisted the hem of his shirt with his hands.

"He what?"

"He had glowing red eyes…" Switzerland ceased in his petting, red eyes..? Wait he had said glowing red eyes…

"Glowing?" he asked perplexed, Sealand nodded.

"Like flashlights." The micro-nation elaborated quietly, Switzerland looked at the boy and he sighed, holding and arm out and gestured for the boy to join the hug. Sealand threw himself at the Swiss nation, clinging at him; Switzerland held the two sobbing children close. He wasn't sure what to do so he just held them, murmuring in soft German to them to sooth them. He heard someone go by the door, so he yelled.

"HEY! I need some help!" the door opened to reveal Japan and America, America rushed over and picked up Sealand to help sooth him. He hugged him and held him close, murmuring softly to him. He knew it was rough to lose people he cared about, especially in quick succession but everyone knew how that felt now.

Japan went to the bodies to investigate them, although he doubted finding anything besides knives with no prints, shoe prints with no match, and the bodies themselves. He flipped Seborga over and studied his body, not many wounds besides a slit throat and a few scratches, the same proved for Wy, Japan was careful to not look at the little girl's expression of terror.

He found nothing as expected, Japan looked at the dead children regretfully, and they had been so young compared to him. Especially Wy who had been only 7 years old, he stood, his pants and hands covered in blood. His hair covered his eyes but America could tell he was crying, but he pretended not to see. America was not looking forward to telling Australia about this, not in the least, he almost winced at the thought.

This was just not his day.

_authors note:_

_bad ending is bad, well another chapter just for you! since I finished it I decided to treat you all! happy Easter! well maybe not so happy anymore but... you get what I mean. ok since it just randomly happened somehow... random facts!_

_1) the tyrannosaurus-rex was smaller then giganotosaurus_

_2) male tigers will try to kill any tiger cub they can_

_3) female lions do all the hunting not the males and could be liable to drive the main male out if he's not doing a good job_

_4) there is a horse/zebra cross named Ecliesse (EE-Kl-EEZZ) _

_5) Michael Tatum (voice actor of France) lives in Texas! _

_that last one surprised me, honestly it did, but anyway its a fact!_

_farewell poppets -Ches _


	7. 100-ish pounds of angry Prussian

_disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia! just the storyline_

America laid in bed with Canada and Sealand next to him, he couldn't push the terrible memory out of his head, and his bandaged arm shot sparks of pain just thinking about it. He closed his eyes as a few more tears pushed themselves out of the sky blue orbs, they slid down his cheeks and hit the pillow, silently never to be heard. The scene ran itself through his skull again

_He had been walking with England, the killer had been sighted and everyone had panicked, America had gone instantly to find his ex-brother/father figure. He didn't want England to get hurt, so he had to be with him, to make sure he would be alright. _

_They walked down the cream coloured hallways, their footsteps muffled against the blue carpet; America was nervous what if he met the killer? What would he do? They had pasted a corner and neither America nor England noticed the ink black figure pressed against the wall._

"_Come on you git, we have to find Sealand," England and called over his shoulder, eyes glittering with irritation, America laughed putting a hand on his shoulder. _

"_Don't worry! We'll find the kid, he'll be ok!" America said rather boisterously, England's eyes softened slightly, not enough for the American to notice at the time. England turned away and continued on his determined march, America trailing after him, when the knives sailed through the air and sank deeply into England's back. _

_Blood burst from England's mouth as he gave a garbled choked noise, he fell onto the ground, America was beside him before he even knew what happened. _

"_ENGLAND!" he screamed, six more knives dug into his left arm, America screeched as the knives tore into his skin and scratched bone, ignoring the pain, the red hot agony, he pulled England towards him. Pulled him onto his lap so he could hold his once father/brother, England looked up at him, he smiled weakly as America brushed the hair out of his face. _

"_England!" he called, England griped his arm, his wounded one but America bit back the yelp._

"_Watch… Sealand for… me… and your brother…" the dying nation rasped, his eyes dripping with tears, "I'm sorry… that I wasn't… a good brother… for you… I… love you… I hope you know…you'll always be..." the British nations eyes drooped, "my little… brother…" his eyes slid shut, and his body gave a last shuddering breath, and went limp. _

"_No! No, England don't leave me! ENGLAND!" he screamed tears pouring and dripping onto the lifeless body of his brother/father/he-doesn't-even-know-anymore, soon the pleas became wordless wails as he sat on the once blue carpet hugging England close. _

_Hands came and pulled America from England at first America fought them, struggling, screaming, kicking to get back to England but soon he just gave up, collapsing into the nearest body (turned out to be Prussia) and crying, he loved England, he always had, ever since England and France had come and tried to get him to become their little brother, he had even through the revolution._

He had loved him despite the arguing, and name-calling and even the odd fist fight; he had always loved England, his big brother, who had raised him. And now… he was gone forever. No more nasty tea, no more being called an idiot by a thick British accent, no more popping up and annoying the brit, no more… just… an empty chair at the conference table where he used to sit.

America put his good arm over his eyes and silently sobbed, he didn't stop when he felt small arms wrap around his stomach, or when he felt a wet warmness against his stomach and shuddering as the micro-nation sobbed against him, they sobbed together in the darkness mourning the loss of the nation that had raised them.

-Germany's, Prussia's, Japan's, and Romano's room-

Romano lay on the couch, he was exhausted but his mind was wide awake and swirling with worry for his fratello, Italy wasn't responding to texts or calls it was as if he had- _don't even finish that thought. _His fratello was _fine_ he wasn't dead in some alley or laying in their kitchen sprawled on the floor because he had been making pasta when- _dios mio! Stop it Romano! _He rolled over a few times, his face scrunching and un-scrunching, he just couldn't get comfortable god _damn _it.

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! _He mentally screamed as he rolled over rapidly, left right left right left right left right.

"STOP ROLLING AROUND SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP VERDAMMIT!" a rather angry Prussian bellowed, there was some grumbling as the two brothers quietly argued, Romano meanwhile, stopped rolling around. And eventually everything was quiet.

Romano rolled over again.

"THAT'S IT!" there was some rustling of blankets and suddenly Romano was being squished by 100-ish pounds of angry Prussian, "Try rolling around now!"

"HEY! GET OFF ME YOU BASTARD!" Romano squirmed, while Prussia lay on him as if a blanket, eventually he pushed the albino off of him, "WHAT THE HELL!"

"You were tempting fate; it had to happen, kesesesese!" the childish man laughed from the floor, rubbing his head where it had hit the table, "geez you need to loosen up." Romano glared, grabbed his blankets, pulled them up to his neck and turned over extremely huffily, away from the Prussian. Prussia rolled his eyes, and meandered back the bed he was sharing with west, and flopped down burrowing under the covered.

Earning another angry grumble for his efforts, Prussia snuggled deeper into the blankets and drifted off to sleep. Romano, eventually, fell into a fitful sleep plagued with nightmares; if you listened extremely closely you could hear his faint lonely whimpers.

Had Not-Italy been then he would have been laughing hysterically but he wasn't he was in the conference room, just sitting there, musing on what to do next. He sat on the table, feet dangling in front of him, facing the door. The sun had long since gone down and he was shrouded in dark, his eyes glowed though so he had used them to see his notes. He was surrounded by them; most of them were drawings of the dead nations. Their faces before he killed them, after they were dead.

He giggled and collected his papers, making sure not to leave a single one, and hopped out the window. He landed gracefully and sauntered down the street to his hotel room. He couldn't wait to go to bed, he was tired, and killing five nations in a day was a lot of work. He adjusted his ink black fedora he was wearing (to conceal his identity although he still wore the military uniform under the trench coat) and the collar he had turned up.

He had hoped to not have to wear these so often, it wasn't as much fun when the victim's eyes weren't swirling with confusion. When he couldn't _feel_ the knives tear through skin, scratch bone and sever muscle. He walked down the street, he noticed the people staring at him as he walked, and he grinned at the wide berth they gave him.

He pushed open the door, and bounced up the stairs, he passed floors two, three, four and stopped at five. He walked down the hallway, passing the dark oak-wood doors that were sprinkled across the rich green walls. His feet padded across the brown and green carpet, towards his room, when he reached the door he slid his key card down and the lock light turned green and the door knob clicked.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room, closing the door and leaving the hallway empty once more. Not-Italy dumped his papers on the desk, dropped his hat with them too and draped his coat over the back of the chair. The articles of clothing returning to their usual brown/red color as soon as he let go of them, he flopped on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep, filled with screams… but none were his own.

_authors note:_

_ok so it was mostly just a filler chapter, I promise more advancement later! also I hope you enjoyed the more descriptive scene of England's death, a reader had told me that it seemed a little quick and their wasn't much description. so I tried to put more of it! you know maybe at a later date, I'll rewrite the story. meh I dunno possibly... reviews are welcome! lets see random fact._

_1) wolves have large paws so while a caribou's hooves go deep into the snow a wolf runs on top of it_

_2) there are two ego's! everyone always thinks that an ego tells you that you are the best all the time and yea that's true BUT some people's ego's do the reverse! and tell them that their terrible people! these are called reverse ego's_

_3) in a fight a grizzly and a tiger would be an even match so they usually avoid each other in the wild_

_ok well hope you enjoyed! _

_-Ches_

_P.S hope you enjoy having it a day early! as thus the next chapter will be out next Saturday not this one, as much as I would like to I will not power write a chapter (especially not one as important as the next one) because then it turns out bad. so i'll work on it and maybe post it tomorrow if I do finish it then. but if not then you just gotta wait_


	8. The Lifted Veil

_disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia_

Iceland sat in the meeting room; he kept quiet, just watching as no one made anymore progress then before. As much as Iceland hated to admit it the killer had them all stumped, and it was frustrating, nations were dying and no one could stop it. Iceland was doodling on his 'notes' really he just had about four five pages of doodles, he knew he should pay attention but he just couldn't. It was ridiculous no matter what he did he couldn't concentrate, so he had just given up and doodled.

His usual burgundy suit, stood out because he was surrounded by the white suits his fellow Nordics wore. He tapped his white clad feet on the purple carpet; he surveyed the room, not the people but the room itself. It had a darker cream color, with the purple carpet as already mentioned it was embroidered with flowing gold designs around the edges, the trim of the room was white, and the large table that stretched down it was mahogany and a nice rich color. The windows had white crosses through them splitting one window into four pieces. It let in a nice amount of sunshine, bright and warm, he rather liked this room. It was so soothing, so calm, so-

And suddenly his shoulder erupted into pain, like his volcano Eyjafjallajökull, he screamed, his voice high pitched and heavy with pain. Soon everyone's eyes were upon him, as he slumped forward still screaming, and soon everyone could see the knife lodged in Iceland's shoulder. Norway was upon him; he sent his brother to sleep with a short spell whispered soothingly into his ear, the younger siblings eyes closed and he fell into a deep slumber, and Norway pulled out the knife, quickly murmuring a healing spell in Old Norse tongue.

The wound sealed slowly, blood dripping from it even as it healed, until finally the wound was sealed but it left a terrible scar. It looked red and angry and would most definitely smart for a few days, maybe even weeks.

The other countries eyes darted around, the killer was nearby, and they had struck Iceland. They were bound to be upset about being foiled in his killing, except that couldn't have been further from the truth. Not-Italy was extremely happy with this result, now they wouldn't feel safe wherever they were, whatever the weather happened to be he would always be around to ruffle their feathers. But he was having more fun plucking them, slowly oh so slowly, pulling out one feather at a time until soon he would have a cold and flightless bird. His for the taking, his to devour and destroy, but until then he would continue to pluck feathers, enjoying each and every squawk of pain, and watching the pitiful feathers drift towards the ground.

He had only stayed to see Norway rush to his younger brother, but that was all he needed to observe. He knew Norway had saved his brother's life by now, with magic, he couldn't pin Norway down, and he was becoming an issue. Not-Italy wouldn't lie, well at least not to himself, he had attempted on taking Norway's oh so _precious _life a few times but he was unable to get close to him. Norway was either surrounded by too many people or he had a magic barrier up, and man was that thing _exasperating _not only did it distribute a small shock but it kept him from getting within five feet of the Nordic nation.

Not-Italy shrugged to himself as he walked down the hallways of the countries hotel, he didn't worry about being spotted, he had stolen a master card to all the rooms. He could always hide if he heard a nation coming. Killing was not part of the plan; he needed to wait until the meeting was over before he could launch it. It would be difficult he was sure. The countries carried weaponry with them everywhere now, battles axes, swords, guns, knives anything really. Not that the former Italian nation minded much, he always won, he smiled and his glowing red eyes twinkled with mischief as he slipped into a room to hide.

In the meeting room everyone was in agreement that they were not going to get any progress whatsoever so everyone fled to their rooms, quickly and in larges groups, but they knew groups didn't scare the killer so much anymore. Scotland and Ireland walked down the hallway together, both holding a large battle axe, they wandered down the red carpet, axes glinting as they walked past doors and lights, towards a sort of hang out room. Luckily stocked with copious amounts of alcohol, they opened the door, green eyes glinting with determination and sadness. Their bright red hair lit up like fire in the brighter room, they missed the closet door shutting quietly.

At first they were silent, but as they drank more and more, they loosened up. Laughing, talking in their thick accents, slapping each other on the back, Not-Italy couldn't understand what they were saying, their accents had only gotten thicker with the alcohol. They already had notoriously thick accents, but now they were practically impenetrable. He couldn't make out a word, but he wasn't particularly paying attention either, he was just waiting for the right moment.

Scotland had said something that caused both of them to sink deep into past memories, he had caught the word England, ah yes they were thinking of their brother past. Most likely wishing that they had been better to him, not that it matters now, he's gone forever, and soon they'll be seeing him.

Not-Italy smiled as he slowly pushed open the door of the closet, the two countries both faced away from him, but he did not want to attract the attention of two nations such as them. He came up behind them, knives ready, the two brothers started laughing once again; his footsteps were non-existent against the red carpet.

The two red haired _lions _as they were sometimes called, downed more beer and whiskey, he slowly slid across the floor towards the pair of wooden chairs that held two large and very sharp battle axes. The green handled one leaned against the leg of Scotland. It had a lion engraving and it was very large, it held red embroidery across the green handle. The other was Irelands it had a red handle with green embroidery; it had a fairy engraved on it. He stood directly behind the pair of mourning men; He raised his arm to strike, the knives glittering.

Alfred sat in his room with Sealand, he and the boy had decided to get closer now that England was gone, because Sealand needed family, England hadn't always been the best but he had been there and it was lonely in the ocean all by yourself. Alfred needed Sealand too, he wanted family too, and Matthew didn't count because they had gotten to the point when they were so close they weren't sure if they were family or not. Besides after such stunning losses for them they really needed someone who understood. Their mutual loss helped them become close, and then they realized how similar they were.

Both ambitious, both fun loving, both were raised by a grumpy brit. Surprising that they didn't become friends before, but now they were friends, brothers even. Currently they were playing apples to apples and making a big mess of it. Neither really understood how to play and it ended in 52 pick up. Sealand snorted as he rolled around on the floor, gasping for breath, Alfred smiled and continued to make up words for the doctor on the screen.

Of course the cards still rested on the floor, doomed to stay there until a tidier nations came to pick them up. Alfred had muted the TV and made up words as he went along, and proceeded to make the Dr-sir-boss-man-guy fit all the gay stereotypes, you know with all he said you'd expect the doctor to friggin barf rainbows and do ballet everywhere he went.

Both were unaware to the danger lurking just a few floors down, but it was no matter. They needed time, and they weren't wanted dead just yet, but how were they to know? With nations dying left and right, everyone started making the best of what they had left, grasping for the diamonds that they hid from themselves. Too scared to go for them, but now they needed too or they were gone forever, deep within the bowls of the earth.

While some nations grasped at diamonds, two were oblivious to the menace just behind them, they drank but of some miracle. Ireland saw the glint of the blades, he wasted no time and acted, he kicked Scotland's chair which sent the both of them tumbling. He fell back against the red carpet, the breath knocked out of him from the fall, the alcohol numbing the pain but also his movement. He rolled as three knives embedded themselves in the floor, where he had been, he grabbed his axe, stood up and momentarily his breath was misplaced again.

It was Italy, but not him at the same time, he knew right away he was possessed or well whatever part of him that was still sober knew. But he was far to smashed to really care; he supposed that's what happened when you drank your problems away. Some creepy inky black monster appears to kill you; he supposed he shouldn't drown his problems in alcohol anymore. If he survived, that is, he felt a knife slice through his arm, and thought that maybe just maybe would be a good moment to focus.

He dodged left, a fist holding the three knives grazed his cheek; he pushed Not-Italy away and got himself into a good stance. His axe raised in front of him, ready to strike, Not-Italy came at him again at almost blinding speeds. His glowing red eyes, his pearly white smile, his ink black skin. Ireland twisted and flipped to avoid the knives, he could hear Scotland laughing and encouraging him.

The two danced around tables and chairs, slicing at one another and avoiding blows to the best of their ability, truthfully Ireland's ability was heavily hampered by alcohol. Not-Italy leapt over a table delivering a well aimed kick to the jaw and Ireland's head snapped back. He quickly recovered, and punched Not-Italy in the side, sending the other nation flying.

"'EY, LADDIE! DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD IT IN YE!" the enthusiastic Scot, cheered after the hit, Ireland twisted his axe and it sliced across Not-Italy's stomach as Not-Italy came at him, twisting, and jabbing with glittering claws. The slash across the stomach didn't do much it was an extremely shallow wound; Not-Italy's eyes were clouded, with anger and confusion and also slight pain.

They certainly weren't… normal? Is that how to put it? They weren't scared; they appeared to be even having _fun. What the hell is this?_ The Italian mused confusedly to himself, _he's smiling..? _He twisted to avoid a jab, eyes keeping close watch of the other's movements.

And Ireland was indeed smiling, he may be bleeding quite a bit, but he was having the time of his life. There were cuts littered all over his upper body, and a few nicks on his legs. Black clawed at the very edge of his eyesight, he was losing too much blood, and he coiled his legs and sprung into the air performing a back flip.

Straight into the bloody wall, he hit it in a star fish sort of fashion, before sliding to the floor. The black clawed farther into his vision, his eye lids sagging, feet entered his now limited field of vision. He realized there was some blood in his eyes, he had gotten cut just above the eye, and before he lost conscious there was a great thump. Then Ireland was pulled into the black, where everything was silent and dark.

Meanwhile, while the Irish nation lost consciousness, Not-Italy had prepared to slay him, knives raised; they plummeted down towards the feeble victim. He was hit from the side with the force of a train; the knives he had held flew from his grasp as Not-Italy hit the ground. Scotland laid on top of him scrabbling to keep him down, but Not-Italy would have none of it.

He kicked him off and grabbed three knives per a hand, Scotland had moved quickly to tackle him, he had been on the other side of the room, leaning on his axe, laughing and cheering for Ireland. Now he was before Not-Italy, eyes blazing and angry. His axe prepared to strike, Not-Italy smiled, so be it, if that is what he wished then. Not-Italy held his knives in front of them, dozens already scattered all over the room, prepared for a quick grab.

Scotland ran at him his axe poised to strike, it fell towards him and Not-Italy blocked just in time, sparks flew when the metal of the axe came into contact with the metal of the knives. Not-Italy's arms shook from the strain of holding the axe away from his face, Scotland pushed more and more weight onto the axe. Not-Italy's entire body started to feel slightly compacted; he took a step back to try and hold up better, his arms where pushing back at the axe. In hopes to push it away, but Scotland was too strong for him to do that.

He dodged to the side doing a roll, causing Scotland to stumble; Not-Italy kicked out a leg and tripped him. Scotland fell and got a face full of carpet, he quickly stood up and turned, to see the ink black man running over the carpet knives poised to strike. He darted to the side but two knives sank into his shoulder while the remainder just cut the skin, he yelled in pain, and wrenched his shoulder away from the murderer.

This rendered him off balance, Not-Italy's eyes glittered as he saw the opportunity, he hooked his foot off balance and Scotland toppled to the ground. Not-Italy quickly sat on him, he impaled the Scots right hand to the floor, and he earned a scream for his efforts. He raised his knife to drive into the other mans chest. The door crashed open.

"We heard screa-OHMAHGAWD IT'S THE KILLER!"

_Authors note: lol three guesses who that is. also I'M SORRY I PUT THIS UP ON SUNDAY INSTEAD OF SATURDAY (well twelve minutes into Sunday but whatever) I AM SORRY but homestuck. I love it too! it's hard loving two huge fandoms. and again cliff-hangers all over the place. but yea. I am to cotton-brained currently to write a good A/N so yea review and stuff__-Ches_


	9. A Hair trigger

_disclaimer: I no own Hetalia or other stuffs_

He raised his knife to drive into the other mans chest. The door crashed open.

"We heard screa-OHMAHGAWD IT'S THE KILLER!"

Not-Italy whipped his head towards the door to reveal Germany, Japan, America and Russia. _Aw shit. _He'd been caught. He stood up slowly, and faced the four nations. Germany and Japan's eyes were filled with shock; America was too, Russia was a little more subtle about his shock. Although Not-Italy could see it clearly, Germany opened his mouth as if to say something but he closed it soon after.

"Hello. Lovely evening isn't it?" Not-Italy's silken voice smoothly slaughtered the silence.

"Italy-kun?" Japan tentatively asked his eyes locked on the ink black nation in front of him, "is that you?" Not-Italy shook his head with a smile, he stretched, he appeared calm but he was inwardly panicking. _What am I going to do? How can I salvage this? _

"I am Not-Italy. You could say he's taking a vacation."

"TAKING A VACATION!? Dude that's totally not fair! I want to go on a vacation!" the some-what stupid American exclaimed. Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Not that kind of vacation, idiot, he is most definitely not having a good time," Not-Italy brushed America's stupidity off, Germany had walked up behind Not-Italy while he was distracted. He tackled his once friend, Not-Italy managed to keep his balance having realized at the last moment. He used Germany's weight against him and threw him back towards the door; he flew into America and Russia bringing them down. Not-Italy, stood there smiling the devils smile, covered in blood.

The very picture of innocence I'm _sure_, Japan stood frozen, staring at him as the other nations stood up. Italy had never done _that _before, but he had, just now, and Japan didn't know what happened.

"You killed all those people?" Not-Italy nodded happily, "What did you do to Italy?"

"Slight imprisonment inside his mind, nothing too terrible, maybe," The murderer, replied almost gleefully, he shrugged his shoulders, "Well… I got to go, have a nice evening." And he threw knives at them, not aiming to kill but distract, as a result the knives grazed shoulders, faces, torsos, legs. Some arms got stuck to the wall, and Russia's scarf was pinned to the wall in several places.

Russia yelled, his anger boiling over, it had collected over the course of the past few weeks. He looked at his scarf, sad and angry; he hoped it could be mended. Japan and America where more shocked, America quickly went to pull the knives that pinned his injured arm to the wall. The pain was rocketing up his arm with every movement, and the wounds bled through the bandages and his sleeve and dripped onto the already red carpet.

Germany was held up by his knives, as he had passed out from shock, his mind couldn't compute how Italy went from the cheery ball of sun to a cold murderer. He had _killed_! It wasn't making any sense to Germany at all. Japan was similarly shocked, but didn't pass out like Germany, his cheek was bleeding and his arms were bleeding with shallow cuts.

This went down in the span of a few seconds, after the knives were sailing in the air, the former nation flipped a few times towards the window. He flipped directly through the frail glass, shattering it; the four nations could do nothing as the killer escaped into the twilight.

As Not-Italy broke through the window the shards glittering about him, he prepared for landing. The murderer landed on someone's fruit stand destroying it, fruits scattered all over the sidewalk, rolling down the road, getting squashed by traffic and the like. He stood from his squatting position, naturally the bystanders stared at him, and it wasn't unusual. With his ink black skin, hair, clothes, and glowing red eyes, it was only natural for him to be stared at.

He smiled a dangerous smile, everyone hurried on their way, darting down the sidewalk eager to get away from the terrifying man. He looked up, about six floors up a figure with raven black hair and a white uniform was leaning out the window. _Oops time to go._ He quickly absconded (A/N ha absconded… :P kudos to anyone who gets that reference) down the gray sidewalk, he picked up speed as he heard a thump behind him; soon he was dashing between the people. It was easy really, most people practically leapt out of his way, he could hear the pounding footsteps behind him though.

Not-Italy pushed himself harder, his breath came harder and his feet slammed against the ground jarring the rest of his body, he heard a loud thump and he turned and saw that his pursuer had ran into a man, knocking both of them to the ground. Even though he was looking at Japan trying to help that man pick up his papers he was still moving, doing an odd backwards/skipping movement. When Japan looked up, Not-Italy saluted him mockingly, and disappeared into the crowd.

Japan cursed his luck, he had gotten away, as he helped the man with his papers in a daze, picking the white papers off of the gray cement, he mused about how well the other nations would take the news. Not very well, that he knew right away, but apparently Italy was a prisoner in his mind. So how were they to stop him without killing him? He didn't want his best friend to die, or at least one of them, he handed the man his papers and apologized again. He stood and turned back to the hotel, not looking forward to the next meeting at all.

He walked slowly gliding across the pavement; he moved slowly still attempting to process the shock of the entire situation. He just couldn't understand, it was too hard for him, Italy was sweet and adorable but now he was apparently locked inside his mind while something controlled his body and killed people. He pushed through the revolving door, without even noticing he entered the building, he sent a message to everyone signalling an emergency meeting tomorrow morning. It was too late at night to hold a meeting now, and the injured needed their rest.

He wandered to his room and flopped on the bed, his body immediately shutting down to sleep, and take a break from confusing reality. Germany had been retrieved by Prussia and the both of them slept. Romano slept too, sort of; it was fitful again in worry for his twin. Frightening images swirled behind Romano's flickering eyelids and when he woke up the next morning they remained and fermented inside his mind. He worried for his brother and it showed, he had bags under his eyes and he was much my irritable then before.

Japan sighed as he watched the younger nation scream at Spain before taking his seat; he wasn't looking forward to crashing it all down around Romano. Soon everyone was seated and Japan took his place at the head of the table, his eyes quickly surveyed everyone in the room, everyone looked tired as if they hadn't slept well. Japan could bet and win on the fact that they didn't, some of them were sitting close to people that they wished to protect; as such the Nordics were clustered together. Norway was eyeing anyone and everyone he deemed suspicious and keeping close to his brother, while the other Nordics stayed close to them. It didn't take a genius to see that Iceland, despite Norway's healing spell, was in pain still it was practically carved into his face.

_Not the best image… _Japan inwardly winced at the image, it was unnoticeable to everyone, and Japan looked at the nations in front of him they looked at him curiously. He opened his mouth to begin and made a choked sound, it was high pitched and it shocked everyone, including Japan, in the room (meanwhile Greece was shocked into falling off of his chair, which no one noticed or if they did, they didn't particularly care.) they all stared at him. He cleared his throat and started again, eyes shyly looking at the purple carpet to avoid the stares.

"There have been rumours that the identity of the killer has been found," he started, some of the nations looked at him in shock, "and they are true. The identity of the killer is now known… but in a sense is still a mystery." More then a few rolled their eyes at his cryptic statement. Japan glared slightly and cleared his throat again.

"Well the killer is… Italy…" his accented voice cut through any side conversation there may have been and left silence, they looked at him in shock, Romano was staring at him in shock… that was slowly turning to rage.

"Wait wait!" he held his hands up in a placating manner, "in a sense it also wasn't him! He's been… uh how do I say… possessed by something. It's turned his looks completely around, his skin is pitch black along with his hair but his eyes glow red. Whatever it is hasn't killed him and there might still be a part of him within his mind, if we're lucky maybe all of him." Needless to say that didn't go down well, nations were freaking out, Romano obviously didn't believe them yelling that his fratello would never do that; his fratello would never kill someone. Never.

Some nations were nodding in agreement while others were frozen in shock, while others still were crying, or screaming, and the reactions went on. Japan winced at all the violent reactions; he had hoped it would have gone better then this.

-After the meeting-

Romano grumbled as he rifled through his suit case, how _dare _they accuse his fratello of murder he was ITALY he's been surrendering for centuries! And now he's suddenly a murderer!? Of course they did say he was possessed but seriously? Only wacko's would believe _that. _Wacko's like the Nordics, Romania, America, and what-his-name… America-look-a-like. He huffed angrily at the thought of them as he shuffled across the green carpet to his other suitcase; he pulled shirts and pants out of the suitcase in search for his gun.

"Where did I put the damn thing..?" he muttered, he huffed and slammed the suitcase closed, moving to a different one near the window, "why did I bring so much stuff!?" he always brought at least 5 suitcases with him wherever he went. Hey you never know when you might need 20 extra changes of clothes. He rifled through the third suitcase tossing out, shirts and pants, totally unaware of the presence inching closer and closer to him. Its black shoes soundless against the green carpet, its smile was wild, and its eyes glowed.

The man had his eyes locked on the unsuspecting nation, Romano grumbled as he continued his search, the murderer raised a knife filled hand. Romano pulled out his gun with a triumphant 'aha!' and turned slightly and saw the figure behind him. He quickly dodged to the side as the knives came down and sliced easily through the leather, his eyes widened _that could have been me…_ he whipped around with his gun pointed at the assailant, swears and insults ready to spring from his mouth when the words died on his tongue. Not-Italy smiled at him, _Italy?_ He thought _that's mio fratello!? H-how..? They... Were right… _his eyes widened and his arms shook a little.

"You're scared." Not-Italy purred, it wasn't a question it was a statement and Romano could see that he was pleased by this deduction. He took a few deep breathes and stopped the shaking in his arms. When he opened his hazel eyes again they shined with determination but they were also highlighted in fear, Not-Italy's smile grew further becoming practically inhuman.

"Who the hell are you?" the Italian demanded, he ignored how his voice shook slightly, Romano tried to look him in the eye but he looked away soon after. Looking at his face but not his eyes, he didn't like the malice and sickening joy in the other's eyes.

"I'm Not-Italy," he took a step forward, in which Romano quickly took a few small steps back; "you know… your brother's body is quite nice. Maybe I'll keep it." Romano's eyes immediately snapped up to see the ever furthering joy and anticipation in the blood red eyes.

"You wouldn't dare bastard!" Romano's voice rose angrily, his eyes blazed with anger, but fear was highlighted in everything he did. It was the small shake in his voice; it tinted the edge of his eyes, it lay in his posture. Not-Italy suddenly appeared inches in front of the Italians face, Romano gasped his entire body flinched backward only to have the murderer follow his movements, keeping directly in his face. He leaned forward so that his mouth was near Romano's ear, Romano was paralyzed by fear, he couldn't move.

"But wouldn't I?" he breathed quietly, his breath tickling the shell of Romano's ear, "I _am _a terrible person after all." With that he chuckled, the terrible maliciousness in the noise shook Romano from his paralysis, and he pushed Not-Italy away from him. His breath quickening, this wasn't his brother, this wasn't him! But in a way the smiling killer not even three feet away was him… it was his brother… or at least his brother's body… he… couldn't shoot him… not his brother…

Not-Italy grinned even more (if that's even physically possible) at the conflicting emotions on Romano's face, he knew he would come to a conclusion eventually. But… He saw no need to let him reach it, with that he charged at the dazed Italian, his knives raised to attack. Romano was a bit too dazed to do much other than raised his arms to protect his face, the knives clawed through the flesh on his right arm, leaving deep gashes. He screamed as blood splattered everywhere, all over himself and Not-Italy, the blood mingled with the tears on Romano's face. He grabbed one of the knives from Not-Italy and blindly lashed out leaving some shallow scratches on his chest and a cut on his cheek.

Not-Italy quickly remedied this situation but kneeing the other in the gut and then landing and upper cut causing Romano's head to snap back. The gun fell to the floor; its clatter attracting both of the nation's attention, Not-Italy lunged for it before getting barrelled over by Romano. Thus began the great gun fight of 2014, the both clawed for the gun, kicking and scratching knocking over furniture. No doubt someone should be coming soon; good thing Not-Italy blocked the door.

Eventually they ended up with someone finally in position of the gun. Not-Italy had the gun pointed directly at Romano's heart, they were both breathing heavily, and bruises formed slowly on Romano's arms and face. Not-Italy was straddling Romano's stomach and had both of Romano's arms pinned under his knees. He pulled back the hammer with a click, and set it back against Romano's chest.

"Addio mio caro fratello." (farewell my dear brother) he murmered to the frightened man under him as his finger slowly tightened around the trigger.

_authors note: _

_haah finally out there! sorry about the like forever wait guys! I've been busy and plagued by the horrible disease best known as writers block. so yea. that's about all my excuses for that...hmmm_

_well don't you guys just 'love' me right now? XP soooo sorry about the cliff hanger but you know I love them. sorry for like no details about the initial struggle for the gun but I doubted you wanted to read something like: _

_then he snatched for the gun, but the other intercepted and they went into another bout of rolling. _

_I mean COME ON WHO WANTS TO READ THAT SHIT!? it's boring _

_and useless_

_and no one wants it. _

_but you know what I do want!_

_Oreos. _

_gotta love Oreos. _

_so anyway imma try to regulate my schedule again. um expect next update soon! mebbe... OH don't mind me but i'm also deleting that update thing I wrote before. because I hate it when things don't line up properly. _

_anywho _

_bye~!_

_-Ches _


	10. Bookworms and knives

_disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, just this terribly bloody story idea_

"Addio mio caro fratello." (farewell my dear brother) he murmered to the frightened man under him as his finger slowly tightened around the trigger.

~around lunch time in a different room on the other side of the hotel~

Norway was pouring through his magic books, looking for anything and everything that could explain the possession of northern Italy, but nothing that HE could find would explain what had happened. He supposed that England would have been able to find something since he had dwelled more in the dark arts then Norway had, but alas England has already fallen victim to this… monster… that used to be Italy. From what Japan had said Norway knew a piece of Italy or maybe his entire conscious was trapped inside his mind, most likely in pain either physically or emotionally. He sighed dramatically all the while keeping his famous blank face, and dropped he face into his hands groaning unhappily. He was sitting at a desk with books all over the wood and laying open at random pages, he had made quick work of the room, much to the displeasure of the rest of the Nordics (they were all rooming together) Norway had a messy room and that's how he liked it.

There were clothes and books and blankets strewn carelessly all over the room, there were large stacks of books and some of them had the occasional alcoholic drink on top (some rum here, wine there maybe a beer over on the shrinking spells) of the magic books. And he had also taped a Nordic flag over the bed he was forced (and he meant forced) to share with Denmark, he rolled his far away indigo eyes at the thought of the loudmouthed Dane. He stood slowly and navigated over to his (shared) bed and flopped onto it sinking into the almost ridiculous mound of pillows, don't look at him like that! He just… really likes his pillows. He burrowed into the pillows and sighed contentedly and just lay there on the bed. He heard the door open and he rolled his eyes once again at the surprised gasp. _I'm not a slob, I just do slobby things._ It is in fact true, he just keeps his room a mess, and the rest of the house is so clean you could almost see your reflection in the walls.

Hong Kong looked around the room (disaster area) his mouth hung open in surprise; Iceland had already walked past the dumbstruck Asian and across the mess to his older brother who lay on the far bed near the window. He shut his mouth and it quickly morphed into a slight smirk, well who would have thought… another bit of information he quickly filed away for later use. He stepped over the miscellaneous items all over the floor and moved over to the desk looking over the strange symbols that were scattered all over the old yellowing pages of the books.

Norway felt the bed dip down as someone sat beside him.

"Find anything?" it was spoken in Norwegian, his own tongue, he groaned in response and tunnelled further into the pillows, "I'll take that as a no." his younger brother continued in accented Norwegian and Norway responded with a nodding of the head. They sat there silently with the occasional rustling of paper as Hong Kong snooped through his magic books. Norway figured that he should probably get up and do something about it but he was feeling unusually lazy so he nudged Iceland to get him to do it, he heard his brother sigh and the weight on the bed disappeared.

Iceland sighed as he felt his brother nudge him; he understood what he meant, _get Hong Kong out of my books now. _It wasn't a particularly difficult message, he stood from the bed and picked his way over to Hong Kong, passing the couch that was his bed but was currently doubling as a bookshelf. He carefully stepped over some more books, _geez why does Norway have to use every, and I mean __every__, surface as a bookshelf!? _He thought somewhat angrily to himself as he finally reached Hong Kong. Now don't get Iceland wrong his room, no house, is in a similar state. Assorted clothes and other objects all scattered about the house, he liked it that way, and it made his manor feel… less large. Although Norway didn't have to do this to his room and his house was a reasonably sized one. Iceland supposed Norway was just… Norway..?

"Quit looking through Norway's books, you're going to turn us into frogs or something." He said to Hong Kong back in English, Hong Kong showed no emotion… not that Iceland really expected his friend to show any, but the Asian closed the book and walked over to the couch. He watched as Hong Kong shifted some books, pillows and a hat around until he had an adequate place to sit, he then embarked on the journey of a life time to find the remote.

~time skip of amazing and fabulousness because I borrowed some fabulous from Poland~

After several hours of gallantly searching for the TV remote Hong Kong gave up and turned it on manually and switched it to a reality show and returned to his new spot on the couch (the one he made earlier was taken by Iceland) and by now Denmark, Sweden, and Finland and returned to the room. They all sat on the bed Sweden and Finland shared; mostly because Norway had threatened to gut Denmark if he dare lie next to him (Sweden had to physically keep Denmark away from the bed. He saw the knife.) And they all happily (?) watched the show. There was minimal arguing (Norway threatened to skewer anyone that woke him up. He was just in a bad mood it seemed.) And they watched the screen with varying degrees of interest, Hong Kong seemed interested but you could never really know with him, Iceland had been staring at the screen but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was day dreaming, Finland was watching with supreme interest while Sweden watching mostly because Finland was. Denmark well… Denmark kept looking at Norway he acted stupid but he knew Norway was upset about not being able to figure out what Not-Italy was.

He glanced around the room; he found it hard to believe of course Norway was extremely well versed in magic (the almost ridiculous amount of books was a testament to that); it was surprising to find that Norway knew nothing of the murderous being that stalked the nations. And Iceland… his blue eyes swivelled to the youngest in their group, he eyed his shoulder, you could see the redness of the nasty scar through the white shirt. His anger swelled up and threatened to overflow but he quelled it, if he lost it now it would only lead to disaster later. He sighed heavily and Finland glanced worriedly at him, his slivery violet gaze was tinted with worry. Denmark grinned and waved his hand dismissively and Finland reluctantly moved his gaze back to the television, Denmark was glad their interaction went unnoticed, he moved his eyes back to Norway and saw the faraway indigo gaze locked onto him, he guessed it wasn't so unnoticed after all… damn sneaky bastard he is. Denmark met Norway's questioning gaze with a charming smile and then morphed it into a funny face, Norway then rolled his eyes and flipped the bird and then burrowed back into his pillows.

Denmark laughed at Norway and conveniently something stupid happened on screen so no one questioned his laughing or told him to shut up. Well maybe not the last part, Hong Kong sort of glared at him; he got the message and shut up. Then he relaxed back into the show again, until that is, they heard the screaming. Everyone bolted to attention, shared a look then ran out the door and towards the sound.

_authors note:_

_BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ... I am bowser! fear me and my redundant schemes that all seem to involve kidnapping the princess!_

_aren't I terrible? at this rate you'll never know what happens next... I have half a mind to cut it off now for all the amazing fanfiction I read that people don't finish. I MEAN COME ON IT'S BRILLIANT DONT STOOOPPPPP IT PAAAIIINNNSSS MEEEEEEE _

_moving on._

_you will know what happens next. _

_I promise._

_just thought I'd be a jerk some more :D_

_cant help it_

_cliffhangers..._

_gotta love'em_

_anyway _

_yea_

_SO MANY FANFICTION IDEAS FOR DURARARA aaahh_

_my brain it will explode._

_and yes it will be thoroughly disgusting. _

_but moving on I might write up durarara fanfiction. mebbe. and no Shizaya it's adorable but gosh darn there is so much of it that its driving me batty._

_and ALSO_

_sorry about not writing up The Snow can Sing i'm just kinda like..._

_I don't knooowww what to doooooo _

_and then there is more procrastination._

_so anyway. do svidaniya deti (goodbye children) _

_-Ches _


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